


Sizing Things Up

by W_H_4_T



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Breeding, Bruises, Choking, Collars, Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Height Differences, Height Kink, Knotting, Leashes, Loss of Virginity, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Painplay, Oral Sex, Qunari (Dragon Age) Kink, Rough Sex, Roughness, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27751987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W_H_4_T/pseuds/W_H_4_T
Summary: Alpha/Beta/Omega Fic***Biting off more than you can chew means different things for different people.In Josephine's case, it means she has a really big mouth.
Relationships: Female Adaar/Josephine Montilyet, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet
Comments: 18
Kudos: 109





	1. Gentle Giant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RaeDMagdon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/gifts).



> For RaeDMagdon why? Because I wouldn't have had the balls to write and post this without being inspired by the unfettered and well-written hornee on their site. Cheers to you bruv.
> 
> Be not afraid! This is a den of iniquity for all who come!  
>  **Revel!!!**
> 
> So my brain only writes this shit when:  
> -Im high  
> -When my brain is in a certain mindspace (no thoughts just write)
> 
> If this fic takes a while its only bc one has to line up with the other perfectly because normally me and smut is like *WHOAH IM EMBARRASSED AND THIS IS ALOT OH NO* and then when Im off my rocker I can block out all the embarrassment because at the end of the day, there are people who enjoy this stuff and if I can write it then that's just how it be.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More than what she bargained for?  
> With a sweetheart like Herah, no.  
> It was what she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What to expect in Chapter 1? Loss of virginity, knotting, biting etc etc. You know, the _vanilla_ stuff.  
> ***  
> The song i listened to on repeat for hours on end while writing this:  
> [ **Doja Cat- Cyber Sex ( s l o w e d + r e v e r b)**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJ_sZiG7mCI)
> 
> Humans can have a little Horny™, as a treat.

It was only a matter of time really. 

Ever since the House of Repose, ever since Leliana, ever since the duel they’ve been...close but not excessively so. Josephine dunked her quill back in its inkpot, quickly moving her hand to the water goblet she always kept filled. 

_Breathe. Breathe._

Ever since the Inquisitor stepped into the War Room all those months ago in Haven, she knew this would be trouble. 

Herah Adaar was so much taller than she expected; Maker that woman went on forever. She was lucky everyone had their eyes on Herah as well or else the blush spreading from her cheeks and down her neck would have been the talk of the War Room instead of Orlais. That and Leliana would have been upset, of course. Leli was her unbidden shield after all. 

Being the only Omega in Haven made Leliana watch Josephine like a hawk lest some Alpha slinks through the shadows and…

The Ambassador shook her head to clear her thoughts; her mind was running away again. Of course it was. She tightened her hold on the goblet of water before bringing it to her lips; drinking it down to relieve the sudden dryness in her mouth. 

It was coming. 

The heat was coming.

Her skin was burning more often, her pulse, pounding and her belly tightening and coiling with desire, especially when Herah spoke to her. 

Josephine put the goblet down a lot harder than intended. Her mind kept going back to Herah, sweet, lovely, **gorgeous** Herah. They’d spent nights together but lacking the carnal intimacy one would expect from an Alpha and Omega couple. In those moments, when Herah would pad across her quarters wearing nothing but her smallclothes is when Josephine’s mind would wander. 

Strong biceps that bunched under obsidian-grey skin from years of handling greatswords, immaculate musculature tastefully decorated in scars, deep amber eyes and forked horns. She wondered what it would feel like to have Herah on top of her, feeling her length slowly pushing in-

**Get your mind out of the gutter, woman!**

She often had to chide herself for those musings, especially since Herah, Maker, especially since her.

Josephine’s hands shook as she pulled at the chain she wore; a nervous habit borne from years of bottling up emotions. The fireplace crackled softly in the background of her thoughts, the blood beating in her ears drowned out any attempt to pull her back into reality.

So many thoughts:

She’d never taken a lover before.  
Maker, what about pregnancy!  
Did Herah even want to mate with her?  
Herah loved her, that much was certain since the duel but... 

There was ice competing with the fire in her belly now, fear fighting with the growing arousal. Her hands came up to cover her mouth lest some weak cry escape unknowingly, her mind long departed from finishing any work. Normally, she locked herself away for her heats; there weren’t many Omegas in Skyhold but they still existed. There was always facilities for them. Even as she contemplated locking herself away, her hand came down to her chair’s arm, digging her nails into the fabric as she imagined digging them into Herah’s muscular back. 

Josephine couldn’t breathe, mostly because the heat was on its way and it was coming _fast_. 

**Maker.**

Scooting out of her chair, Josephine wobbled a little before steadying herself on the desk. She plucked the quill from its inkpot, attempting to hold the pen steady as she composed a slightly untidy and far too formal letter while standing. Drops of ink spilt due to a lack of blotting paper but the Ambassador didn’t care at that moment; taking a handful of sand to dry up the remaining ink. Rolling up the vellum, Josephine held the missive to her chest and sped off towards the Main Hall. As she opened the door, she was sure to make polite yet curt eye contact with all who wished to see her; a silent gesture that she was too busy but appreciated their being there.

Maker forgive her rudeness, but she didn’t care one jot about any of them in that instance. Herah was taking up a dangerous amount of space in her thoughts and she needed her out in the best way possible. It was a simple and impossibly quick U-turn to make, from her office to her shared quarters with the Inquisitor. The whole time, the diplomat hoped that her scent didn’t saturate the Main Hall as she moved through it.

* * *

Herah was comfortable with herself.

She was as powerful as she was massive and made sure to flaunt it when necessary. When she trained with the soldiers, she always managed to knock them flat on their ass; making a point never to disrespect them for their stature and technique, guiding instead of gloating. Herah was born under a lucky star for her size considering she was around Bull’s height; something that had caught him off guard when they first met in the Storm’s Coast.

Even so, despite her stature, she found herself courting someone small; a soft, noblewoman who was as smart as Herah was strong. The Qunari pushed her dark hair from her yellowish eyes as she reclined against the garden wall while reading a report. So small, so soft, so cheerful was all that roamed through Herah’s mind as she looked away from the report in her hand. She remembered, with a snort, the time Leliana had viciously threatened her, ensuring Herah understood that Josephine’s heart was pure.

 _“As well as her body,” she recalled Leliana hissing at her, “Treat her kindly and treat her well or else you will find yourself missing more than your life.”  
_ _The Spymaster glared at Herah's crotch, making the threat as obvious as possible.  
  
_

Herah was not easy to intimidate but The Nightingale was something else entirely, to be successfully scolded by a Beta spoke volumes of her power. She was an Alpha, yes, but she wasn’t a beast; not like some of the Alpha’s she met in her previous line of work.

Maker, some of them were sickening; she understood why Leliana would be so cautious.

Even so…

A fluttering of wings made itself known; amber eyes looked towards the disturbance to find one of Skyhold’s many messenger birds hopping on the grass while a rolled vellum swung from its leg. Whoever the fuck tied that message had terrible hand-eye coordination; the missive was barely hanging on from the thread keeping it there. Herah easily plucked the parchment off the bird, drawing her finger over the Rook’s beak as thanks. 

It squawked before flying off to Maker knows where. 

Grey fingers tucked the old report into her coat pocket as her other hand rolled the newest vellum flat. At first, her eyes had to adjust to the odd scrawling before she recognized the looping letters and elegant scrawl turned literal scrawl. 

And then she realized what she was reading.

Herah shut the missive quickly, eyes wide and peering around to see if anyone was close enough to read what was within.

**Andraste's flaming teats.**

Herah jumped from her spot on the ground, her heart beating far too hard in her chest as she speed-walked towards the Apothecary.

She needed to collect some things.

Even as she walked, her mind was racing and she could feel the telltale tightening in her pants.

**Makermakermakermakermakermaker.**

* * *

Finally. Herah pushed the door in to walk up the stairs leading to her quarters, her pouch full of things for the situation. The scuff of her boots against the stone was all she heard, other than that, Skyhold was silent. Even from here, she could smell cinnamon twisting with the raw scent of an Omega in full-blown heat. Josephine was just up the stairs and Maker, it was damn fucking easy to tell. 

Taking in a deep breath, Herah ascended the last step to put her hand on the door. 

It swung open as the scent she caught bare wisps of turned into a full rampage on her senses. Herah had to bite her lip to stifle all her urges; it wouldn’t do to prove that she was yet another savage like the people she used to know. 

Besides, Josephine deserved a perfect first time.

The realization came back again, **fucking shit** , it was Josephine’s first time. 

_Breathe Herah Breathe_ , but as she took in a breath, the scent filled her lungs which didn’t fucking help. 

“Herah?” came a sweet, tortured voice from above the stairs. 

Herah jogged up the steps, bolting up would be in poor taste. At the same time, the shuffle of sheets and the scent of sex permeated the air as Herah finally crested the landing. 

Amber eyes met grey hazel eyes; one pair wide with astonishment while the other was hooded and near swallowed by black pupils.

Herah was taken aback solely because dear, sweet, chaste Josie was already stripped of all her clothes; her nipples stiff against the air and her thighs already slick with wetness. Her hair, normally kept in pristine condition was frizzy and tangled falling over her shoulders as if she had been tossing on the bed mere moments beforehand. It took a good amount of self-control not to just take her ordinarily restrained partner against the stone floor. Thankfully, Herah steeled her nerves considering she would have to be the sane, reasonable one for once. 

Josephine looked far from controlled at the moment.

The diplomat crossed the room to meet Herah, tilting her head up to the Qunari before weaving her slender fingers into Herah’s hair. The Inquisitor allowed it, pulling her large frame down to Josephine height.

Josie was all sugar and sweetness on regular days; her kisses were like butterflies and her fragrant lipstick left marks all over Herah’s face.

Now, however, there was blatant hunger in that witty mouth. Josephine swept her tongue across Herah’s lips before biting into the bottom one; nothing about the frenzy of kisses was close to the coy Antivan accustomed to being sensuously challenged. 

“Josie,” Herah tried to speak through searing kisses, but the Omega only mumbled disapproval into her mouth, “Josie-”

Uncoupling them with strong, grey hands, Herah held Josephine’s face away from hers, the fingers in the Inquisitor’s dark hair squeezing from frustration. Maker, the clouded, heavy-lidded stare paired with the angry pout almost made Herah regret pulling them apart. But they needed to approach this with as clear as a mind they could; considering the Ambassador was mostly lost to her heat, it was up to Herah to be the responsible one. 

Josephine’s skin was burning under Herah’s palms; tawny hands untangled themselves from the Qunari’s head, dropping listlessly to the side.

Herah released her grip on the fiery, blushing face and placed her hands on her small lover’s shoulders, brushing her wild hair from her damp neck. The movements were torturous to Josephine who whimpered almost silently as grey hands passed over her skin. 

Turning the Antivan away, Herah moved the Omega towards the disrupted bed while keeping a hand on her back. Halfway towards their trek, Herah saw Josephine begin to wobble and moved quickly, positioning herself to scoop up the woman in her arms. There was no protest in the diplomat’s form as she was carried, laying her head against Herah’s chest and closing her eyes, breathing in the scent of apex Alpha; muted, bestial strength being chained down by love and precaution. 

Herah laid Josephine on the bed before brushing away sweat-soaked tangles of hair from the woman’s face, laying a tender kiss to her forehead before breathing in the rich cinnamon scent of her lover. 

The Inquisitor could see the need shining in the Omega’s eyes as tanned fingers gripped the sheets.

  
 _“One more second, love,”_ Herah thought to herself as she pulled her lip between her teeth.

She could feel her cock grow in her pants, pressing uncomfortably against the fabric. Soon, Josie won’t be the only one suffering. Herah reached in her pouch as grey hazel eyes followed her every move. The Alpha withdrew a small bottle which she retrieved from the Apothecary; thankfully, the man wasn’t the judging type and dared not say a word to the Inquisitor. Undoing the cork, Herah gestured for Josephine to sit up; the Antivan slowly brought herself up, lacking the normal grace she showed every day and nearly falling forward before she was caught. Herah pressed her forehead to Josephine’s burning cheek as her arm balanced her, the other hand grasping the bottle tightly.

“I need to you sit up straight, Josie,” Herah whispered while pressing a kiss to the diplomat’s temple. 

Straightening her arms and back, Josephine regained herself, flopping upwards while rubbing her thighs together. Releasing her grip on the frustrated woman, Herah relinquished the bottle to Josephine’s care who threw the concoction down as Bull would to a mug of ale. Her face scrunched up slightly from the taste before returning to the same pained, lustful gaze. 

Taking back the bottle, Herah placed it in her pouch before removing the bag entirely. 

With the biggest task done, Herah was free to relieve herself of her more restrictive clothing without anything detrimental happening. Shucking off her leather coat and scarf, Herah made quick work of her overclothes and boots; Josephine’s eyes never once left Herah’s body, her hands once again bunching against the sheets, her hair now fully thrown over one shoulder, her eyes, burning like coals.

In her underclothes, the heavy erection was very noticeable, but she tested herself; seeing the warm, willing woman in front of her, already divested of clothing but not making any moves to pounce like an animal. 

Herah walked forwards, watching how Josephine moved as well to perch on the side of the bed. Before she could do anything, the Alpha felt short nails scrape against her hips then her lower back, digging them in like a kneading cat. Slowly, the same fingers that deftly wrote letters and carried the Inquisition’s diplomatic matters were the same fingers undoing her smallclothes. The cloth fell, unveiling the hard grey shaft with a flared tip that beaded with liquid. 

Herah allowed Josephine to explore; not willing to push her away, partly due to selfishness and partly to wanting her lover to do what she wished. A grey hand rested on the Omega's head, gently brushing the hair as the diplomat gulped audibly. Josephine brought her mouth to the tip, running her tongue along to collect the liquid. Herah’s nails scraped against her scalp before relaxing, her amber eyes tense but needy. The Antivan ran her tongue along her lip, the pre-cum salty, but not unpalatable. She found herself eager to taste the flood down her throat and moved forward, taking the head into her mouth, working her tongue around the tip and any bit of skin she could find.

The immediate shift had Herah’s knees nearly buckle; if it weren't for Josephine’s nails continually pressing into her back, she would have lost her senses and collapsed entirely. The slow back and forth continued even though a faster pace would have been preferred; Herah was in no mood to choke Josephine though. More spurts of that salty liquid started leaking, lubricating Herah’s shaft enough for her to take another couple of inches but no more lest she cuts off her breathing.  
The hand in her hair continued tensing, pulling, scraping and encouraging. Josephine cracked open an eye-- she hadn’t realized she closed them-- to see the telltale bulge of the Alpha’s knot popping from its confines. She’d read about it before, in anatomy books hidden away in libraries, but never saw one in the flesh. Inquisitive in nature, the Omega brought her hands from Herah’s back to her hips, making sure to scratch the skin, before cupping the knot in her hands.

There was a sharp pain in her head as Herah pulled her hair much harder than intended. There was a grunt, then a low growl at the touch. Herah was no animal, but at that moment, there was a dangerous flash to her amber eyes as Josephine yelped. The extra vibration only served to break Herah further, who gritted her teeth and fought the urge to grab the Antivan’s head and rut without remorse. 

Herah was getting close; tawny thighs continued rubbing together throughout the moment, eager, willing and painfully aware of the heat in her belly and emptiness inside of her. Josephine ran her tongue along the Alpha’s cock as she felt it throb in her mouth, a short jet of fluid shot into her mouth, catching her by surprise before she began drinking it down. Salty, warm, musky liquid ran down her throat but there was more seed than space in her mouth and soon, she found it spilling down her lips and down her neck. As the jets grew weaker, she suckled at the head and ran her tongue along the length as many times as she could, listening to Herah groan, a powerful giant nearly brought to her knees by her mouth alone. 

When Herah finished spending, she removed her member from Josephine’s mouth, amber gaze fixed on the string of saliva that connected the tip to her lips; grey hazel eyes sparkled with a devious coyness.

Herah wondered if Leliana was bullshitting about Josie being an innocent in anything.

The Alpha bent to her pouch to retrieve a towel -- one of the items she brought for this very moment-- and moved to clean Josie off. What she hadn’t expected to see was a delicate, sun-kissed finger scooping a dollop of warm seed from her neck and putting it in her mouth. Herah didn't know how many times her eyes would snap open in surprise today but she had a feeling this wouldn't be the last. She stifled a growl as she felt her spent member regain its hardness from the show in front of her. The knot, which already hung heavily, doubled in pressure, aching with a need to be inside the virgin Antivan. 

_“Don’t lose your fucking cool, you ass”_ Herah berated herself internally.

Taking a breath and filling her lungs with cinnamon sweetness, Herah brought the towel to Josephine’s chest, her height allowing her to easily tower over her while kneeling. She passed the fibres over her chest, cupping a cum-covered breast and gently tweaking the stiff nipple underneath the cloth. She heard Josephine moan a broken whimper, her pleasure so close and yet constantly denied. As Herah wiped off her seed, she brought her mouth over each patch of cleaned skin, sucking the skin between her teeth, leaving little bruises that no one but the two of them would see.  
Every nip brought out a quiet keening, too soft to be a moan but too loud to be a simple breath. Josephine tilted her head upwards, exposing her unmarked neck, her hair falling away from her shoulder. Herah noticed the gesture and moved her head to kiss the corded muscle on Josephine’s shoulder. She knew what she wanted and fuck, Herah wanted it too. They were so close.

“Patience, Josie,” Herah breathed into the spiced, coffee-coloured skin, “You’ll have me soon, Kadan.”

The diplomat closed her eyes keeping her head tilted, her throat bobbing, her hands bunched yet again in the sheets. With the last of the seed cleaned, Herah placed the cloth on the end table, just in case they needed it. Laying a large grey palm across Josephine’s chest, she pushed the Omega back to lie against the sheets, her breathing ragged and her body, covered in the reddish hues of blushes and bruises. Herah laid her body between the Ambassador’s open legs, forcing a winded gasp from Josephine who felt the length brush against her opening and clit. 

Her arms wrapped around Herah, at first, a command, then in hesitation. It was still her first time, and despite all her courtly knowledge and intelligence, nothing legitimately prepared her for taking **a fully-grown Qunari Alpha.**

Maker, what was she thi-  
  


“Hey,” Herah whispered uneasily, removing one of Josephine’s hands to lace with her Anchored one, “I know that face,” a kiss to her worried lips, “It’ll be alright, Kadan,” the other hand cupped her jaw, brushing her jawline with her thumb until Herah could feel Josephine relax underneath her.

Grey hazel eyes closed, black hair fanned out like the backdrop of a night sky. Herah moved her hand between them, running her rough palm down the curve of Josephine’s waist and hip before moving forward to cup her cock in her hand. Herah shifted upwards a little, her other hand feeling the short nails dig in her bones and positioned the tip at Josephine's entrance. The Antivan meant to keep her eyes closed but feeling the head nudge at her caused her to jump back to life. Herah dipped down to kiss the diplomat, enamoured and comforting, using the moment to begin pushing in.  
She could feel Josephine writhe in minor discomfort as she stretched to accommodate the mass. Closing her eyes once again, she tried not to think about the burning in her extremities as Herah slowly pushed herself in. The head was giving a small number of problems to go in; a human Omega, despite willing, was not well enough equipped to take a Qunari Alpha. 

Herah however, made sure not to hurt her lover, stopping her progress to roll her thumb against her clit, now exposed due to the stretch. Nails dug hard into the back of Herah’s hand as the thumb continued its ministrations, her head dipping back to nuzzle the Ambassador’s neck, whispering Qunlat and Common Tongue into the damp skin. Josephine relinquished her hand to curve around Herah’s horn, pulling her in further, unwilling to have her move away again. She moaned softly with each tug of her clit until she felt the head slip past her entrance.  
Sliding in too quickly, the thick tip widened her at an alarming rate, loosening something in her; pleasure became pain as the sharp sting stiffened her body, clenching her muscles around Herah who was both fighting not to thrust at the new tightness and distressed at the deflowering. A cry escaped Josephine’s lips, one of tortured lust coupled with agony which Herah smoothed away by kissing her way up the Antivan’s neck and mumbling again. 

The hand that once bunched against the sheets found itself replaying her fantasy, in reality, digging her nails into the Herah’s back. Herah pressed her face into the Antivan as she began to pump slowly, far slower than she would have liked but Josie needed to be treated with care. Each thrust pushed the breath from Josephine’s lungs, forcing a litany of sharp breathless moans that matched the pace. Herah listened carefully through her own muted grunts, for the perfect angle, but **Maker’s fucking thighs,** Josephine was so tight and with each thrust, her slippery walls pulled at her cock, making each pump a dangerous teetering towards the finish line. 

Herah felt the nails scrape harder at her back and the hand tighten around her horn. She pushed again to hear Josephine nearly scream as her length scratched against the sensitive patch inside her. Picking up her pace just a little, Herah pushed herself in more, continuing to press herself against the rough patch while bringing her knot closer to Josie’s entrance. Herah felt her head being lifted upwards and allowed the movement, looking into the tear-streaked grey hazel eyes.  
There was ragged breathing coming from the beautiful face that no one had the privilege to see dishevelled in lust but her. The Alpha took Josephine’s lips in her own, noticing how her breaths filled her mouth and how her moans refused to stay in her chest. Their tongues swirled for a second, Herah noticing the taste of her own cum with Josie’s sweet lipstick, before the Omega broke the kiss, moving quickly to Herah’s shoulder and biting hard. The feeling of her flesh being broken and blood running down her collarbone caused Herah to stutter her thrusts, pushing the last inch in, causing Josephine to bite even harder as the knot rubbed against her. 

Releasing her bite, Josephine pulled herself back, collapsing on the bed again, stiff, her mouth smeared with blood as she froze at the feel of the knot against her. Her arms that once locked around the grey body was thrown against the sheets as if paralyzed. 

Herah had seen instinct at play before but never so powerfully.

The Alpha bent her head to lick the blood from her paramour's lips before moving her arms below Josephine’s head, cradling her as Herah began pushing the knot in. Herah kissed Josephine’s forehead which was a tangle of damp hair, gently grinding the thick flesh into her still virginal opening. It would be a near-impossible fit as Herah felt Josephine’s tight walls grow tighter. She was freezing up again but Herah started speaking reassurances yet again, confessing her love and praise over and over again into the pleasured agony of the diplomats panting. 

She felt Josie open her legs a little wider to accommodate, before those same legs wrapped around Herah, pressing calves into her and forcing the knot in with a rough pop. Taken by surprise, her amber eyes glittered dangerously, half-lidded and predatory as they stared into doe-like and spent grey hazel. 

Now coupled, Josephine, wrapped her arms around Herah, combing her hands through her hair and letting her legs fall back to the side. She could feel Herah holding herself back as the length inside her throbbed with a strong pulse, ready to spend but halted. Within that moment, they heard only the dying embers in the fireplace. Josephine moved her head to the side, exposing her neck again but this time, the offer was accepted.  
Herah leaned forward, moving a hand to brush dark, wavy hair aside to show a long, unblemished neck. Herah skated her teeth over the corded muscle before biting down, flooding her mouth with blood. The Inquisitor both felt and heard Josephine’s uncontained gasp at the feeling as she was assailed by the feeling of being marked and the feeling of being filled. Herah began pumping slowly again, grinding her knot against the sensitive patch inside Josephine, who looked ready to faint from sensory overload. They both came hard, a small, near unnoticeable swell puffed from Josephine’s abdomen as the seed had no exit, blocked from the heavy knot inside her entrance.

Thank the Maker Herah had the good sense to give her that potion. 

Herah continued thrusting through the hardest spurts of her release, spreading kisses over the diplomat’s face, brushing their noses together while wearing a radiant smile a woman of her appearance wouldn’t be expected to have. 

“Josie,” Herah spoke into the Ambassador’s neck, “I love you.”

Coming back to her senses, Josephine moved her hand from its place behind Herah’s head and cupped a grey cheek, brushing her thumb over a scar and wincing as she felt the knot throb inside of her. She would definitely feel that in the morning. And the next. And the next. Basically, until this damnable heat was over. 

“Hey,” Herah said, shifting as much as the tie would allow her to, flipping them on their sides, “Did you hear me, Kadan?”

Adjusting to the size of the tie, Josephine hooked her leg around Herah’s hip, bringing them closer.

  
“Mmmm? Yes,” Josephine whispered, her voice scratchy and raw, “I heard you,” she moved her hand to trace the bloody mark on Herah’s neck, “I love you too, _Mio Amore_.” she moved to plant a kiss on Herah’s grinning lips. 

* * *

They fell between sleep and waking, the knot continually growing and shrinking based on what either of them did or felt. More often than not, it grew, rubbing against Josephine’s front wall, and causing more problems yet again. 

It was evening when they finally uncoupled, Herah draped a thin sheet over Josephine as her skin was still burning from the heat. Herah, however, remained uncovered, much to the Antivan’s approval. Using Herah’s arm as a pillow, Josephine felt Herah brush her hand against the impossibly small swell of her lower abdomen. There was a look in Herah’s amber eyes, quiet and contemplative as her knuckles brushed against the sheet covering Josephine’s skin. 

A small, dark hand grabbed the grey fingers, bringing them up for a kiss.

“Patience, Herah,” Josephine breathed into the scarred, grey skin, “You’ll have me soon, Kadan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: woke up, edited it and realized the LIBERAL use of Maker. Observe the Horny™ BLASPHEMY!
> 
> There was no A/B/O for Josephine fics so I discarded all of my intense shame and made something for yall dirty whores (I mean this lovingly and respectfully as well as jokingly).  
> I know. I know. I know. 
> 
> Lissen. This is what A03 is also for.
> 
> Leave a comment or a kudos if you liked it, you nasty bastards (i say this with love and i mean it as a joke ofc <3 )


	2. Requested Roughness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More than she what she could handle?  
> With a darling like Herah, no.  
> It was what she asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What to expect in Chapter 2? Mild painplay, bruises, general roughness...oh yea. and leashes. Good old fashioned Christian content.  
> ***  
> HEY THERE SLUTS!
> 
> The song of the day is:  
> [Doja Cat-freak (slowed down+reverb)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bvGyJZux8k)  
> Ofc this song. Ofc. It only makes sense.

Josephine was always the first to rise in the morning; puttering around as dawn broke. Her duties demanded time management down to the second; organization in regards to her waking schedule was key. Now, however, the Antivan awoke fluttering her eyelashes to bright sunlight before shutting her eyes again. Her arms groped around on the bed, only to find that she was pinned by one hulking grey mass. Herah was still dreaming, her face buried in Josephine’s neck, her breath streaming even puffs into her skin.

The Omega’s heat ended very recently and almost thankfully so as this closeness would be keeping her suffocatingly hot. 

The diplomat tried to adjust herself but the Inquisitor proved to be an immovable object indeed. 

“Herah,” Josephine spoke, her voice breaking from the days of intense use, “Herah, please get up,” she tried wiggling herself to break free, “Herah!”

Turning her head, Josephine opted to do what she did best, use honey instead of vinegar. She kissed the top of Herah’s head, nuzzling into the dark, rough tangles of hair as best as she could before trying again.  
  
“Herah, _amore_ , I cannot breathe with you crushing me.” the Omega chirped almost musically. 

Grey ears twitched at the sound of her name before Josephine felt Herah barely stir above her. 

She could feel the frown against her neck which quickly turned to a large intake of breath as if finally waking up. Raising her head up, Josephine had mere seconds to catch the sight of amber eyes before a kiss was stolen from her. She could feel Herah smiling against her lips and broke their contact to press one to a grey nose. Finally somewhat free of the weight, Josephine moved a hand to brush against one of Herah’s horns, an act the Qunari took with closed eyes and a peaceful hum.

“Good morning, darling,” Josephine said through the cracking of her voice, “As much as I would prefer to linger,” her nails scratched an unbroken line down the rough bone, “the War Room awaits.”

Herah wrinkled her nose at the sound of the damn War Table then sobered when she realized a certain Orlesian Beta would be there. She could already imagine the cold, blue eyes; beyond irate at the liberties taken over the past few days. Blinking away the thoughts, Herah chose to ignore those details and focus on the woman in front of her. 

One thing at a time.

Josephine passed her nails against the skin where Herah’s horns met her skull; a sensitive place that nearly had Herah falling asleep again. 

“Herah,” Josephine spoke sharply, not entirely eager to be squashed by the sleeping swordswoman yet again.

That got the Alpha’s attention; on the battlefield, her size mattered but here, she may as well be smaller than Varric. 

With the way she shrunk under Josie’s tone, she definitely felt tiny. 

“Alright, alright, I’m getting up,” Herah said with a small frown.

Before she had moved, Herah had been mostly crushed against Josephine, now her torso hovered over the diplomat, propped up by those muscular grey arms. It was amazing how such violent limbs which have easily ripped the heads off grown men’s bodies can be so...gentle. 

The funny thing about perfection is that it doesn’t exist. 

What was supposed to be a perfect morning and perfect waking turned into something...problematic. 

As Herah shifted her body upwards, she both saw and heard Josephine gasp, her grey eyes sparkling but not from the sunlight.

That’s when Herah felt her knot pulsing and more importantly, **where** it was pulsing. Glancing down as best as she could, Herah could see where their lower halves pressed against each other, a tie still in effect. What more, now that the problem had been given attention, it responded. 

By growing. 

Tawny fingers began clawing back into the sheets as the knot inflated inside of Josephine, still completely inexperienced to the pressure and fit despite the practice she received.

Plus she was still quite sore from said practice. 

Now...Herah Adaar was not a wicked woman. 

She was a good person with vast self-control.

Herah Adaar, however, was once an untempered and thoroughly licentious woman in her mercenary days; this display only served to bring out what was once buried.

Moving back to lay against her mate, she pressed her teeth against the column of Josephine’s throat, silencing the diplomat before she could speak. Herah nipped at the already bruised skin as she began rocking herself slowly into the Antivan, pressing her knot up against the sensitive patch inside her paramour. 

The act elicited a surprised wail from the normally composed woman who’s dark skin began lighting up in a full-bodied blush. At first, Josephine tried to speak, but each word was snatched away by a small moan coming out with the rhythm of Herah’s movements. Instead of trying again, she relaxed, looping her arms around Herah’s neck and curling her toes against the Qunari’s legs. 

Each thrust was slow, in fact, every thrust Herah made over the past few days was slow; vicious rutting was commonplace for an Alpha but Herah was oddly restrained. 

Even so, Josephine could feel the invisible bridle fraying the more times she coupled with Herah. 

She wondered if she could take on a rutting Qunari?

The thought had caused her insides to pull at the grey shaft moving in her, forcing Herah to pick up speed, which only served to prove her hunch. Her heels dug into the back of the Inquisitor’s thighs, surely bruising the skin; encouraging the horned woman’s pace.

Nipping around Josephine’s mating mark, Herah began testing the flesh then retesting the bite with gentle teeth enclosing the already broken skin. Herah felt the diplomat shiver underneath her, slender ankles brushing against her legs as she came. Herah growled into the mark as her shaft was milked by the release; velvety walls clung to her cock but not enough for her to spend as well. 

Through consistent panting, Herah heard Josephine try to speak. She moved so that she could hear what the Antivan was trying to say, nearly reeling back as the inquiry made its way into her ears. 

“No,” Herah said outright, her brow furrowed as she watched the diplomat catch her breath, “You’re not…” Herah fumbled with her words before pressing her face into Josephine’s hair, “You’re human…” came a mumble from wavy, black strands, “and intact just days ago. I...I don’t want to hurt you.”

Herah heard Josephine quietly exhale a laugh through her tired breaths before a dark hand-squeezed Herah’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“Indulge me...another...request then,” the Omega murmured while regaining her composure, tracing her hand up Herah’s neck to pull her close enough to hear the confession. 

Amber eyes went wide, but not in the usual immensely startled nature. A thoughtful look melted into one of resignation; believing that this demand was much less strenuous for her mate. Herah pressed a kiss to Josephine’s cheek before sitting upright.

The Omega laying below her looked radiant in the sunlight, golden-brown skin contrasted the sheets making her look like a tapestry and Herah, silly, besotted Herah stopped for a moment to drink her in. Josephine’s hands began kneading the bedding once more in impatience, snapping Herah from her admiration. 

Sitting on her heels, the Alpha brought the Antivan’s hips upwards before holding her thighs in a vice grip as she began to pull out. Smaller, tawny hands abandoned their place on the sheets to circle Herah’s wrists, digging her nails into silvery grey skin hard before relaxing her grip. 

Taking her bottom lip in her teeth, the Ambassador nearly broke her nails bending them into Herah’s skin as the Qunari firmly yet cautiously applied pressure to remove the knot. The thick mass of flesh was in full formation, making it difficult to manoeuvre and she wondered if she could even take it out. Thankfully, Josephine’s prior release helped lubricate the knot enough to make the ordeal much less of an ordeal. 

Herah watched as the first hint of grey peeked out from Josephine’s entrance, widening the opening as the slick bulge slowly made its way out. A drawn-out groan erupted from the diplomat who tossed her head back against the pillows; apparently, a little bit of pain didn’t bother her. As Herah proceeded, the Omega allowed her hands to slip from Herah’s wrists until they barely grasped the Alpha’s fingertips. 

Setting the pace to her lover’s convenience, Herah slid the rest of the knot out, nearly jerking backwards as the bulk of muscle was fully and forcefully ejected from her somewhat virginal mate. The instant the knot popped out, the Ambassador sighed loudly; a sound which was nearly a scream in the beginning. 

Grey digits slid upwards to hold Josephine’s hips with the same requested roughness, bruising the skin far too easily, ensuring striped marks to be left in the future. Herah began to withdraw again, her eyes flicking between the now hooded stare of the Omega and the sight of her pulling out. 

For someone innocent in love, Herah’s mate watched her with a rapt almost ferocious tension; curved mouth parted slightly, pupils swallowing the opal irises once again, sitting up on her elbows, body rigid as if anticipating.

Herah matched the wavelength of Josephine’s mood, removing her length at an agonizingly sluggish pace, making sure to graze her paramour's top wall as she pulled out. Herah gritted her teeth as her lover tried to pull her back by instinct; strong hands gripped dusky hips tighter to try and fight the urge to plunge back in. Finally, the head came free, coated in a web of sticky fluid which held its connection. 

Releasing the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, Herah made motions to retrieve one of the towels she kept nearby, only to accidentally brush her member against Josephine’s still open inner thigh, thus knocking over the last domino. 

Herah was caught off guard by her own release, her palms finding purchase on Josephine’s legs as the diplomat found herself covered in thick ropes of seed. It didn’t take an absurd amount of time for her to stop, but once she did, the damage was already done. 

The already sticky sheets, were now ruined entirely and Josephine?

She looked at Herah with a mite of amusement but mostly exasperation; crossing her tanned arms she raised an eyebrow at the Inquisitor, her body glistening with seed. There was a short huff of laughter from the Antivan as she stared at Herah expectantly; a silent command.

Herah quickly scrambled for the towels, her once domineering behaviour gone, replaced with this simpering fool who internally berated her own virility as she wiped the seed from her lover’s form. It was a task she found herself often occupied with over the past few days, thankfully lacking in tedium. 

Looping her arm around Herah’s neck, Josephine relaxed into the soft brushes of cloth, only pressing herself forward into Herah’s body to take a grey earlobe into her teeth. Herah stiffened from the contact before accepting the soft nibbling. Leaning against Herah’s head, Josephine spoke near-silent whispers, more akin to confessions, into the Inquisitor’s ears, this time lacking an order.

This time, brimming with enamoured praise. 

* * *

Perched was the best word to use in a situation like this, with the way the Spymaster draped over the raised portion of her desk. It was an expected confrontation, punctuated by the narrowing of sharp, blue eyes.

It didn’t take much for this encounter to happen. Exiting the Inquisitor’s quarters together was normal for the pair but these few days' absences spurred rumours into action. The residents of Skyhold knew that catching a glimpse of either half’s shoulder would be an impossibly rare sight but it would be proof to the hushed whispers in the halls.

The Inquisitor and Lady Montilyet, a mated pair.

This secret floated around Skyhold; its natural course into the Spymaster’s Rookery was inevitable. 

Now Leliana was propped over Josephine’s desk, her expression choked by irritation and worry. 

“You’re joking,” the Nightingale spoke angrily, “That’s not possible.” she leaned forward even more into the Ambassador’s personal space, her voice hissing through clenched teeth “A Qunari Alpha. Are you quite **mad?!** ”

“You have no place at this table, Spymaster,” Josephine quickly riposted, placing her quill down on the blotting paper so she could cross her arms, “I suggest you tend to your duties, instead of quibbling over my every choice.”

Taken aback by the direct comment, Leliana scowled. It was rare Josephine addressed Leliana by her title in private, laying bare the depths of her unwillingness to speak on the matter. 

_“You’re speaking to a talented mediator,”_ Leliana reminded herself, _“And more so, to a friend. Niceness before knives.”_

The Nightingale sighed, straightening her posture for a conversation instead of an interrogation. 

“I am simply worried that she may have treated you too roughly considering your...inexperience,” the redhead groped around for an appropriate word, rarely ever flustered except for in the most earnest of occasions, “Was she cautious? Were you forced? How are you feeling? Were you bitten?” came a flood of questions, all quickly silenced by Josephine raising a hand to her friend.

Despite her no longer being a Bard, Josephine still possessed a great amount of dexterity. Her long fingers made quick work of her golden scarf and the buttons of her silken shirt; opening the fabric to show off a mating mark.

Icy blue eyes opened in shock under creased eyebrows before Leliana quickly rounded the desk to lay her hands on the Ambassador. 

Josephine allowed herself to be fussed over by the Orlesian; leather gloves clinically scraped over the bite, noticing the inflamed, red divots that were far too deep for her liking. Leliana chose to ignore the plethora of dull maroon patches canvassing Josephine’s skin; the Nightingale’s blood pressure was high enough.

“Will you stop hounding me, Leli,” Josephine huffed as she moved to pull her dress collar back up, “Everything is fine. Herah and I are **fine**.”

There was no anger in the Spymaster’s face, instead, her eyes were impossibly tender, her lips pressed into a thin line, her behaviour akin to a wolf brought to heel; tail wagging low in submission. 

Leliana was not a nice person. 

She was a good person, but no longer nice, so in the rare moments that sincerity overpowered her senses, she allowed it to take full control.

With Josephine, the Beta was putty in her hands; few friends had been kept in these turbulent times and by the Maker, she refused to lose Josie. 

“And catching?” The Orlesian reprimanded, “Did you take a draught for the-” 

“Yes, everything was taken care of,” Josephine dismissed as she redid the buttons of her shirt, paying no mind to Leliana, “Herah ensured I took a potion for the coupling.”

Had Josephine been looking at the Beta, she would have seen the slight twitch in her eye at the mention of tying. Instead, her attention lingered on her golden scarf, redoing the style as her mind wandered to their first night.

Introspective, near-yearning amber eyes, the feather-light swipes of knuckles against her womb; silence melting into the dying dances of the fireplace.

Tucking the scarf into her dress, Josephine directed her attention to the Spymaster, pushing the thought out of her mind as best as she could only for it to return. 

_“Patience, Herah,” Josephine breathed into the scarred, grey skin, “You’ll have me soon, Kadan.”_

They would discuss it soon. 

They will. 

“-in any pain?” the Ambassador heard the tail-end of Leliana’s question, looking past the Spymaster instead of at her.

Leliana gave a sly smirk as she repeated the question, well aware that the Omega drifted away beforehand, “Are you in any pain?”

A blush, lacking in eroticism and crammed with embarrassment, flushed Josephine’s face as she squirmed ever so slightly.

“I...I suppose I am a _little_ ,” the diplomat shrank in her chair as the Spymaster grinned widely, “ **sore...** ”

The answer was barely a squeak, only making Leliana’s grin bigger.

“Ah, that’s easily remedied,” the Orlesian said while rifling through her coat pouches, “A simple healing potion with a touch of Prophet’s Laurel,” withdrawing a small vial from her coat, Leliana gestured for Josephine to open her hand, pressing the bottle into her friend’s palm before enclosing the tawny hand in both of hers.

Years of training in The Game taught Josephine to read people thoroughly before they spoke. Before Leliana took a breath to start speaking, Josephine already knew by expression alone what the Beta was about to say.

“Leli, no.” Josephine chided.

“You’d be surpri-”

“Leliana, no!”

“You’d be surprised how many of these-” the Spymaster continued, trying not to giggle.

“Don’t you **dare** finish that sentence.” Josephine responded angrily.

“-how many of these I go through when Lyna is in a rutting mood,” Leliana continued, completely ignoring Josephine, “Wet-”

Josephine yanked her hands back, spitting a vicious curse in Antivan before Leliana broke into a belly laugh, her face quickly turning redder than a tomato as she tried to finish the obscene tale Josephine heard too many times before.

Each time, outwardly despising the graphic details more than the last.

Internally, however, she had the story memorized, eager to put theory into practice.

* * *

Being mated didn’t stop people from talking about her. Oftentimes, when Skyhold’s residents discussed the tawdry side of their thoughts on Adaar, they would compare her to various things.

Skin like stone wasn’t exactly true as there was more life in her skin tone than dull rock; Obsidian was always a better comparison. Sleek, shiny, dangerous muscles accentuated by sweat when she trained. 

Tall like a mountain was too boring, Herah was indeed massive but her form didn’t just stay there, it loomed and cast shadows that forced you to bend backwards in order to catch the barest glint of her gaze. A dragon was a better description with the way she refused to sway to the wind, drawing up her full height when threatened.

Her eyes, however, were always difficult for people to describe. Too many times, they were likened to gold, or wolves eyes. Something predatory and ferocious. 

This was where they were wrong. 

Herah Adaar’s eyes were like honey; deep yellow-brown, catching light in its sweet ombre. 

At least to Josephine, who never saw the intimidating side of Herah’s gaze, thought her eyes were like honey. There was nothing gentler than Adaar’s expression when she saw her.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. 

Who wouldn’t be a _little_ curious?

Josephine thought of this while tapping her quill against the inkpot, her attention part ways on her work, part ways on the stinging bruises lacing around her hips and thighs.

She caught a glimpse of the rumoured gaze that morning and since then, her mind refused to let her forget.

* * *

Time had passed since then.

Every time Josephine tried to initiate something, Herah would begin whining about the Ambassador’s bruises, soreness, health, anything that could be fussed over was brought to her attention. Even so, Herah would not suffer her mate, opting to service her in less taxing ways. 

Herah refused to do anything more until she was certain Josephine could handle it. 

Soon enough, that time indeed rolled around. 

Herah was fooling around with one of those mosaic boards, trying her best to match up the pieces before relinquishing it to Gatsi. She was in her normal nightly attire, a breastband and breeches; her long legs splayed out, one planted on the ground, knee bent, the other taking up a majority of the couch. 

Josephine took up residence on the bed, wearing one of Herah’s shirts, absolutely swallowed by the material. She was curled up on the bed, classic Antivan literature in hand but not an ounce of focus on the text. Passing her hand through her hair, she moved her black curls off one shoulder, her eyes shifting to stare at Herah as a finger traced the mating mark. Josephine placed her book down respectfully as both hands travelled down to her shirt to wring the hem. 

She was fit and hale this night; so confident in her assumption that she took a contraceptive potion before turning in. 

Blissfully unaware Herah continued fiddling with the tiles, her tongue held between her teeth as she eyeballed two pieces that looked too much the fucking same.

That’s when those honey-yellow eyes darted towards her mate, at first, just checking, then completely focused. 

“Herah…” the Inquisitor heard in that lilting accented voice.

After so many nights of hearing the same voice laden with a request, Adaar knew what Josie wanted. Abandoning her tiles to walk towards the Antivan, her Obsidian skin caught the firelight, shifting to Volcanic Aurum. She placed her knee on the bed next to Josephine’s thigh, leaning in before wrapping a hand behind her head, tangling in thick, black hair.

Herah skimmed her lips against her paramour’s before pressing their foreheads together.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Herah spoke as if she hadn’t already deflowered the Omega.

Josephine kept her eyes closed before speaking a resounding **yes**.

Herah sighed before kissing her mate knowing damn well such niceties would be thrown out the window soon. 

“Wait-” the diplomat exclaimed, causing Herah to stagger backwards in an instant, all too willing to do as her mate asked, “I need to get something.”

Reaching a hand to the end table, Josephine rifled through the drawers, searching for something, muttering her disapproval whenever the wrong object was found.

“Ah!” she said, all too happily, retrieving a cord with some kind of-

“Koslun’s fucking knot, is that a leash?!” Herah blurted out, her amber eyes once again snapping open at the sight.

Tensing the leather in her hands, Josephine gave a near insidious grin before beckoning her Alpha forward with the motion of her finger. Herah padded quickly to the bed, her eyes flicking between the collar and her mate.

“You stated before,” Josephine began, gesturing for Herah to kneel who readily took a knee, “that you were hesitant as I had not healed fully,” she undid the collar, clipping it around the Inquisitor’s neck, “you were also worried of harming me,” she ran her nails under Herah’s chin, watching her relax into the touch, “know that if I pull sharply,” Josephine gave the lead a rough tug that jerked Herah forward slightly, “that will mean we stop.”

Yellow eyes watched the Antivan; time continued passing to the point Josephine worried she had overstepped her bounds with her mate by bringing in a damn leash so early in their rela-

“Ok…” Herah finally said, nodding her head as if still taking everything in, “Pull it really hard and I’ll stop or….try to…” Herah bit her lip, “Rutting isn’t easy to stop, in fact, I’m not sure it can be.”

There was worry in Herah’s eyes as Josephine considered the Alpha. Drawing the lead inwards, she brought Herah forward, tilting the horned woman’s head to match her height and laying a chaste kiss to her forehead.

“I trust you, darling,” the diplomat spoke against Herah’s skin, “I trust you as much as I love you.”

Josephine heard Herah exhale loudly, her expression docile before it faded to a blank stare. The hunger stoked itself as the Omega felt Herah’s mouth against her neck. Removing her hand from under the Inquisitor’s chin, Josephine ran her fingers across grey shoulders which bunched like twisting iron under the touch. Herah kept her promise, running her tongue down the Omega’s throat before nipping her collarbone and the flesh above it, making as many bruises as Josie’s dark skin could take.

And in keeping her promise, Herah brought her hands to the collar of Josephine’s nightshirt, pulling the fabric so that it tore down the middle in a slow rip. Herah now had a full expanse of pliable, bronze skin to explore, wasting no time as she held Josephine’s hips down, running her tongue down the valley between her breasts, tasting the spicy-sweet scent. Shifting herself forward, Herah took a dusky nipple into her mouth, rolling it between her teeth, applying just enough pressure to hurt. 

The leather cord strained in the Antivan’s fist which shook and clenched hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. Instead of gripping a horn, Josephine bit the knuckle of her index finger, trying her best not to bite through the bone.

Releasing her teeth from her mate’s breast, Herah moved to the other breast, applying the same amount of force while tightening her hold on Josie’s hips, feeling her writhe under the pressure.

Herah began to feel the telltale stirring in her smallclothes, ripping a growl from her throat. The vibration only served to make her mate gasp sharply at the sensation; the subtle arching of her back pairing with the bobbing of her throat. 

That’s when the horned Alpha released her hold both on the diplomat’s hips and chest.

“The…” Herah started, her amber eyes polluting with darkness, attempting to fight off her lust and losing, “The draught, potion, you need-”

“T-taken care of.” Josephine mumbled, moving her hand to cup the Herah’s cheek.

Leaning into the touch, the Inquisitor breathed a sigh though the Omega could see the same troubled expression she saw on their first night. 

With the draught dealt with, Herah removed the tawny hand from her face and rose up, gesturing to the rags the Ambassador had barely clinging to her skin. Grey hands pushed the open shirt over her lover’s shoulders, ensuring her fingers brushed over every inch of skin they could on the way down. Josephine released the lead so the shirt could come off before quickly taking it back into her hand. 

Herah brought her hands back up the Antivan’s forearms, nails digging in as they went up before sliding to rest on her shoulders. The entire time, Josephine held her breath, only staggering an exhalation when nails came into play. One calloused hand settled over the mating bite before pushing Josie back to lay against the sheets, her legs hanging off the bedside. Hovering over her, Herah saw the blush coming back and ran her eyes down the golden-brown form in front of her, eager to latch her teeth on several places, especially the soft curve of her waist. 

She could feel the lead tensing, not the sharp tug to end their session; an encouragement. Lowering herself, Herah began laying strong bites on Josephine’s chest, taking any flesh she could find brutishly between her teeth, causing the diplomat to begin keening stuttered moans into the air.

The Inquisitor continued devouring her way down the tawny body, stopping at the curve of her mate’s waist to press an especially hard bite, tearing a short scream from the woman below her. Herah kissed the raised mark in apology before continuing her trek.

Kneeling, Herah reached her goal, gripping Josie’s thighs in her hands before hooking them over her shoulder. She could hear the shallow sips of air being taken by the Omega, one hand undoubtedly curling into the sheets, the other applying tension to her leash. 

Having no need for it, Herah fisted the fabric of her small clothes, ripping the linen off, allowing space for her cock to grow. Continuing with the desired brutality, Herah kissed Josephine’s inner thigh, another apology, before taking a bite, forcing yet another squeal from the Ambassador whose legs trembled in response. Herah continued warmly wounding both of Josephine’s thighs until she felt the lead tighten again.

The impatience was palatable and Herah Adaar was not a wicked woman. 

Herah moved forward, running her tongue along her lover’s slit, tasting the heavy, sweet moisture Omegas produce. Herah could hear Josephine’s breathing get faster, her voice cracking with each breathless sigh. Pushing her tongue in, she zeroed in on her entrance, lapping softly at slick inner folds; the leash straining in the Omega’s grip. Herah darted her eyes up before lifting her arm to force Josephine’s hips into the bed, scoring angry C’s into the dark skin. 

Her other hand moved to replace her tongue, two fingers breaching the tight entrance to curl into the sensitive front wall. The motion produced a cry from the Antivan which cracked into a whispered scream from the sheer force. The heels digging into Herah’s back only made her move faster, pumping her fingers, tightening her grip and moving her mouth to suckle the glistening pink bud in front of her. 

As she swirled her tongue around the nerve, Herah felt a trembling hand skate fingertips on her horn as if trying to grasp it but lacking the strength. Every pump was followed by a swipe of her tongue, ripping out another hoarse scream from Josephine until her legs crossed behind Herah’s head, her heels limply pressing into the grey skin. 

A rush of liquid coated Herah’s fingers as she withdrew them, releasing her hold on both clit and hips before lapping gently at the tender flesh, drinking up the Omega’s cum.

Qunari had remarkable stamina, which was proven as Herah moved back, fingers in her mouth licking up the release as she glared at Josephine, no hint of patience in her stare as she readied herself for the next task. 

Raising her head as best as she could, Josephine tried to control her breathing, thoroughly winded, as she saw the deep yellow eyes pierce into her; the honey was sullied.

There it was. 

Herah withdrew her fingers from her mouth, eyes burning under furrowed brows as she stood up, casting a silhouette over the bed. 

Without warning, she clapped both palms on the Antivan’s hips, yanking her roughly to the edge of the bed. Never once speaking, Herah moved a hand to line up her tip with the Omega’s entrance, only glancing up once before beginning to push in. It hadn’t been too long since their last coupling but **Maker** it didn’t make anything easier. Josephine yelped as the tip stretched her again, this time, there were no reassurances, no gentle touches, only the heavy hands of her mate squeezing her hips in a crushing hold to get her through this. 

As Herah began pumping the head slowly to spread the slick, Josephine nearly tugged the leash, the pace spreading icy fear in her belly instead of lust.

A small, sharp whimper came from the Antivan as the yellow eyes softened and a small frown formed on Herah’s face. The rough hands stilled and applied less pressure; the grey shaft stilling its movements.

“Am I hurting you, Kadan?” Herah said, her tone thoroughly distressed.

Releasing a breath, Josephine placed her hands on top of Herah’s, gouging the skin gently under her nails before propping herself up on her elbows, staring back with heavy-lidded silvery eyes.

“Keep going.” was all the Antivan ground out, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she moved her gaze to the semi-buried head. 

Pushing back the need to fuss over her mate, Herah cleared her mind before regaining her grip on Josie’s hips. Slowing her pace, the Alpha resumed pushing herself back in, making small strokes to lubricate the tip. Slick dribbled from the entrance as Josephine rocked herself into each pump, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to allay the brief pain. 

With a groan, Herah pushed the head through, her eyes closed as her knot began swelling. The diplomat pressed the leather cord hard into the back of Herah’s hand as she felt her set a rhythm of long pumps. Each inch fought to fit until properly coated in wetness, forcing some short strokes from Herah that made Josephine see stars. 

It was getting harder to keep herself up on her elbows especially with the movement, so the Omega allowed herself to drop back onto the bed as her head turned to the side.

The yellow glare grew sharper as it started.

Quickening her pace, Herah began rutting against Josephine, pulling her legs wider apart as she bent forward into the motion, a knee on the bed to stabilize her as she drew her mate’s hips up to pump relentlessly and viciously. 

Every thrust rocked the Omega into and up the bed, drawing a loud creak from the impossibly sturdy furniture. Curling her toes and any other digits she had, Josephine silently wailed as the shaft filled her, punching into the tender patch inside of her; her voice completely shattered.

The last inch disappeared into the woman, followed by the still growing knot which Herah moved in and out as it grew. A trembling tawny hand tightened the leash, bending Herah even more forward as she rutted harder, the knot grazing the inside of the Omega’s opening before being yanked out. Unable to take anymore, whimpered as the thick mass of muscle became too much for her to deal with, alerting the Alpha to sink in completely, forcing the knot through while continuously pressing against her mate. 

Throwing off Josephine’s hands Herah hovered forward, arching her body over the diplomat as she pressed the heel of her palm under the Omega’s jawline, pushing her head away, digging nails into her cheekbone as Herah took the mark in her mouth again. Growing to its full size, the knot sealed off the Antivan’s entrance as thick seed plastered her inner walls. Unable to scream anymore, Josephine went completely limp; ragged panting escaping her lips, her body trembling from the sheer intensity as it accepted the breeding. 

Drawing herself back, Herah continued kneeling against the mattress, a large grey palm passing over her lover’s heaving, sweat-soaked chest before moving to the indiscernible puffing of her womb.

Josephine’s vision began to fade; a hazy picture swam in front of her, framed by stark shadows from a dying fireplace. The Alpha caressed the swell as she continued to spend inside of her, her amber eyes reflected cruelty in the dim light but her actions were delicate and warm like the steady movements of a honey dipper. 

Opal eyes found themselves enclosed by eyelashes, her energy far less when she wasn’t in heat. Before drifting away, she felt Herah lay against her like a heavy blanket, brushing her hair, skating fawning kisses over her face and whispering words in Qunlat she was sure to hear in her dreams.

* * *

“Leliana?” Herah spoke, her voice mired with confusion, “She uses a leash **on the Warden fucking Commander?!** ”

A small hand pressed against Herah’s mouth; index finger tapping against the closed lips.

“I would…” Josephine started, her voice rasping into a small cough before continuing, “advise you to be careful with your words when next you see Leliana,” the Antivan traced the Alpha’s upper lip, “it is a story she has told me and **only** me. Even she must have secrets.”

The pair had shifted positions since Josephine passed out; Herah laying with her horns hanging off the bedside while the Ambassador stretched out on top of her, straddling Herah. The leash had long since taken residence on the floor though Herah kept it within reach…in case. 

The coupling continued squirting weak shots of fluid into the Omega, her eyes still heavy with a need to sleep despite Herah’s obnoxiously energetic attitude. 

The cons of having a Qunari mate was certainly the recovery time when not in heat. 

Laying her head against the horned woman’s chest, she felt all ability to converse leave her again as two muscular arms rubbed their way up and down her back, soft in all senses of the word.

The many, many bruises on Josephine’s body were covered by a thin sheet draped over the two of them, her thighs and hips aching delightfully with wounds no one would be able to see. 

She wasn’t sure how she was going to walk.

Nuzzling into Herah’s neck, the diplomat felt Herah breathe the word Kadan into her hair before resting her head back. 

There was a question in Josephine’s mind, brought up by the gentle touches on her back, but it was soon forgotten; the honey-sweet murmur of Kadan replacing the thought entirely. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope yall enjoyed todays scoop of whore knee.  
> If y'all are ultra nerds like me, you'll recognise the "who wouldn't be a little curious" quote from when the Advisors bust in on Iron Bull airing his man meat and Josephine just up and confesses her Qunari kink like 0_0 
> 
> *insert comical quip here*


	3. Testing Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More than what she hoped for?  
> With a treasure like Herah, no.  
> It was what she desired to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What to expect in Chapter 3? All the usual stuff...oh yea and choke kink because my pal keeps talking about it and now its in my FUCKING head  
> ***  
> The song I listened to while writing this in a semi-hazy, inebriated haze:  
> [hozier - work song (slowed + reverb)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xyl6cYXYAIo)  
> I think this song explains why the chapter turned out this way...Ahem...

Even as a little boy, Cullen believed actions were more powerful than words. When he was feeling precocious, he used to throw rocks at beehives. When Mia would pester him, he’d yank her pigtails. When he was upset, he’d climb the odd statue in the centre of Honnleath and watch people go by; shooing away pigeons that tried to peck him for invading their perch. 

Everything Cullen did was an action; he rarely spoke in his youth which made him an uncommunicative wall of iron as an adult.

The Commander jostled his armoured boots for what felt like the umpteenth time to try and quell the crushing silence. 

He was regretting his socially stunted choices now that the War Room held little more than the breathing of 4 people. 

Adaar crossed her arms while staring at the map markers, her height for once, a hindrance, as she could still see the aggressive stab of the Spymaster’s blue eyes in her periphery. 

There was only one Alpha in that room and her name was not Herah.

Normally Josephine started conversations, both for work or amusement. That would have remained the case if her voice weren’t completely and utterly shot. Many behaviours changed when she had stepped into the War Room, however. Her walking was slightly off; more like a minor hobble trying to be hidden by the abnormally rigid gaze of grey eyes. Her dominant hand, often bent at the wrist on her hip, was hanging loosely to her side. 

She was trying very hard not to openly grimace.

Only the sharp intake of quiet breath would signal an answer as to why her habits changed; a hand on her hip pressing into the clothed bruises on her body. 

Cullen dared not speak.

Leliana seconded that motion, but more so due to the fact she was peeved and wanted the Inquisitor to know. The Nightingale was a master of body language; every move Josephine and Herah made told a blatant story as if screaming it from the rooftops. 

_“What the_ **_fuck_ ** _did I tell you.”_ Leliana’s glare seemed to say, directed at honey-yellow eyes that refused to look up.

The Inquisitor simply poked her finger at a map marker, her eyes flitting upwards briefly to look at Josephine who, as best as she could, gave a small smile to the intimidated Qunari.

* * *

There were rumours of a scuffle in the Rookery. Thudding footsteps, angry whispers and even the scrape of a blade at one point. No one truly knew what happened as the tower birds made an awful ruckus; whether natural cawing or a disguise for the conversation was anyone’s guess. The only thing people knew for sure was the slow, heavy sound of boots on the Rookery stairs. 

The Inquisitor came down, her face shiny with sweat, her eyes wide with fright and her skin greyer; ashen with fear.

She looked like a ghost who swept through the library without once looking at anyone, her hands trembling as she walked, each step unsure in footing.

Only Dorian, who tilted his eyes up from his book, gave the petrified Alpha a devious smile before returning to his text. 

“Play with fire and you get burned, Inquisitor,” he spoke into the pages, amused beyond compare, “At least our dear Spymaster has left you alive and in one piece,” he looks up from his book again as Herah stumbles past, “For now.”

Herah stops walking, only for a moment, gulping before she speaks.

“S-shove it up your p-powdered ass, Vint,” Herah speaks with a trembling quiver to her voice.

Dorian simply scoffs amicably before returning his attention to his book, all quips he meant to say, already said. 

Herah staggers to the stairs to the Main Hall, well aware of the blue eyes still digging into her back from above. She would not be safe till her feet touched the stone floor of Skyhold’s Great Hall. 

Andraste’s charred knickers, she couldn’t wait to have several doors between her and that fucking Nightingale.

* * *

The bruises were only slightly healed after some time apart; Herah was always excessively insistent on recovery.

Even so, the coddling didn’t stop the good Lady Ambassador, in fact, it encouraged her. 

One night, within Skyhold’s walls, Josephine brought herself to the Inquisitor’s room as usual, this time, commandeering all attention as she crested the stairs, her presence drawing Herah’s attention as easily as it would in the Courts. Many thoughts had been rattling around in Josephine’s head; today she would pick her poison to drown out the constant thinking and bolster her confidence to finally speak.

Today she chose Herah, sweet Herah who, clothed in her scant nightwear, glanced up from the report she was reading; conspicuously enraptured.

The gentle Qunari, with her puzzled doe-eyes, watched Josephine make her way towards her cluttered desk, stopping right next to her and promptly unseating the Inquisitor with a deft finger looped in the middle of her breastband. The grey giant flowed from the chair, dragged towards the couch without any resistance, hesitation or otherwise.

And in all the fever and fervor, Herah unleashed herself on the Omega once more, from a Druffalo being herded to a Dragon showcasing its strength.

* * *

It was promised to her; savagery, with every small whisper that made its way into a pointed ear. Clothes partially torn, skin reddened from an iron grip with barely any control or leniency given to Josephine. 

It was what was oft pleaded, oft given and oft taken with curling fingers scraping against Obsidian skin. 

It was what was desired; driving away thoughts deliciously so, basking in equal parts sincerity and severity. 

Pressed against the armrest of the fainting couch, Josephine held on for dear life as Herah held her hips up. Her nails gouged into Herah’s back as she rutted against her, her knot pressing against the Omega’s entrance. Picking up her pace in short, sharp strokes, the Alpha continued her relentless movements, forcing the Antivan’s legs apart further. With her head against a grey shoulder, Josephine squeezed her arms tighter around Herah as she heard the Alpha’s grunting become more breathless. 

She was getting close.

They were getting close.

Dusky, trembling legs moved to reciprocate a motion done on their very first coupling, pressing her calves against Herah’s rear to force the knot in.

A low growl came from her mate which Josephine heard beside her ear as the short thrusts stopped to grind against her opening. It was a weak hold but the Omega tried to grasp the mark in her mouth; failing to do so as the knot steadily applied more and more pressure to her aching body.

Though a snarl had sounded off, those same lips peppered across dark skin, Josephine’s jawline, face, neck, anywhere that could be touched was given attention during the strenuous fitting. The Antivan tried forcing her legs to push harder, crossing her legs around Herah’s lower back and arching herself into the rhythm, but the knot remained stubbornly outside of her despite the aid. Leaning her head back, Josephine closed her eyes, her neck glistening with sweat and near glossy bronze in the dim firelight; her hair, a long mess of sable curls clinging to her skin. It was hard to resist the flesh before her as Herah latched her teeth to the offering, running her tongue down the column of Josephine's throat before nuzzling the dip between her collarbones, quietly apologizing in between grunts as she dug her fingers into her mate’s hips. 

Though handled with care in the sweetest of moments, on the other side of the spectrum was a woman treated like a greatsword, with the Inquisitor’s behaviour as ruthless as Josephine requested these days. Herah breathed deeply before halting her motions, not willing to harm her mate or force her despite both parties willingness to go forward. 

Instead, Herah buried her face in the space where Josephine’s neck met her shoulder, her hands pulling tawny hips, the knot still facing severe resistance but motionless, save for the subtle movements caused by the mated pair’s harsh breathing. 

Though they had coupled to completion many times now, it was still a trial made greater by the fact Josephine still froze up once in a while, making entry near-impossible. The bruising hold was relinquished and replaced with the careful patting of large grey hands on red and blue striped skin. Josie froze for many reasons be it from the difference in anatomy to simple stage fright to her high-strung overthinking.

At times like that, Herah knew she had to put away that fervour and fang behaviour; Josephine had proven she was no frail flower but she still required compassion.

Only the best for her Lady. 

Attempting to catch her breath, the Antivan brought her head up, jostling the Herah from her resting place, their faces inches apart.

“I-i’m sorry,” Josephine whispered, her voice barely audible in between breaths. 

Herah removed one of her hands from the diplomat’s hips to cup her mate’s jaw, running a thumb along the damp skin before tucking back frizzy strands of black hair. Though those beautiful opal eyes were reflecting pure arousal but there was some disquiet buried beneath the lustful stare. 

No matter the reason, Herah knew how to combat each.

“Just relax,” The Alpha cooed, bringing their lips together, at first a feather-light brush then deeper, speaking in between each peck, “Breathe. You’ve done this before. You can do it again. Just breathe.”

Several kisses were dispensed as Herah’s focus settled on the soft lips under hers, coated with a fragrant balm that spread honey in her mouth. She darted her tongue out in a flat sweep to savour the taste, only to be caught on the second stroke; her mouth captured by her mate in an Orlesian kiss. Honey balm flavoured their deepened kiss, only severing themselves once Josephine made it clear she needed to breathe.

Underneath her, Herah could feel supple walls pull at her member, the tension slowly melting away, all muscles unclenching from prior difficulty. 

Herah hovered above the Antivan, brushing their noses together briefly before returning to her place against Josephine’s neck, breathing the scent that lingered on her skin and in her hair. 

She didn’t move again even as she felt the calves on her lower back stir slightly or the mild scraping of nails on her back.

There was an unspoken rule between the two that was well-known after their first few couplings. Herah preferred Josephine set her own pace, taking the lead especially in times like this. Though the collar and leash were stored away in the cabinet, it would always be on in spirit.

The panting under Herah grew louder, followed by struggling moans; half in strain, half in pleasure. Tawny calves pressed hard, allowing Herah to apply force at her lover’s behest. The knot ground against the tight ring of muscle before Herah broke their unspoken rule to ease her mate’s strain. 

Running a grey hand down the body below her, she jammed her fingers between them, locating and rolling the Omega’s clit between her digits. 

It was a sensory assault, the calloused fingertips against the delicate bud, the knot still firm against her and the teeth against her throat which suddenly appeared amidst the chaos.

All at once, a seeping of wetness bled around the knot in a slow drip, coating the front of the bulge but not enough to allow it entry. Reminiscent of their first night together, Herah began pumping slowly once again in maddeningly lethargic and deep motions. Clouded grey eyes lost their fog as electricity shot down Josephine’s spine, the pressure of Herah’s cock leaning up against the sensitive patch inside of her. 

The Omega had to close her eyes, leaning her head back, her nails leaving red welts across Herah’s back as she savoured the pace. Though she enjoyed the feral swiftness of the rutting Alpha, she also thoroughly indulged in the sluggish yet powerful strokes that shoved her into the armrest with every thrust.

Crossing her legs tighter together, Josephine restricted Herah’s rocking hips even further, her toes curling and legs trembling once again as she felt her body go rigid yet so very unstable. 

Without a knot to contain the mess, the Antivan came as Herah pressed the slippery mass back against her mate’s entrance, coating the thick bulge with as much wetness as possible. 

Slick dripped onto the cushions and continued forth in a flood as Josephine’s arms went limp, an arm tossed to the side of her head, another hanging off the couch. Pulling away from her lover, Herah lifted herself above Josephine, taking in the view of the exhausted Ambassador, her chest heaving with every breath. Dipping down just briefly, Herah lapped up a trickle of sweat that clung to her mate’s shoulder before moving back to stare.

Hazy and yet to focus, Josephine kept eye contact before moving her wayward hand to cover Herah’s larger one, bringing it from its position between her legs; running upwards across her body, grazing over her skin, a calloused palm covering her lower abdomen where she would be filled, stopping for a moment. Josephine allowed Herah a moment, staring up into the amber eyes that focused on the area below her palm. 

A small tug from a smaller hand made Herah move again, passing over her paramour’s ribs, over her breast where a grey thumb gently brushed against her nipple before continuing up in an unbroken line. Watching with rapt attention, the Alpha’s honey-yellow stare turned acrid as she realized what her mate wanted, her grey fingers pulled by elegant ones to settle neatly over Josephine’s throat. 

A small but wicked smile came to play along the Ambassador’s features, her eyes relit and rekindled, her energy once again spiking as the Inquisitor’s strong digits easily wrapped around her neck; her fingers nearly long enough to meet in the back.

Herah did nothing, her hand still, her body still, her breath still. 

As grey as a statue, unstirring and placid as a statue. 

Just a small bit of force, as Herah squeezed with as much pressure as one would grasp soft wax.

Josephine’s hand still controlled Herah, a sentiment made known by the way she applied force to Herah’s wrist, pushing the Alpha’s hand forward until the right amount of tension was given. 

The yellow eyes flashed, only for a moment, before those brutal fingers gripped to match the requested force. Through barely parted lips, Josephine gasped, her eyelashes fluttering at the treatment before closing. From the moment Herah began closing her hand, the knot found itself lubricated by another wash of wetness. 

And before she could react, Herah felt those impatient legs dig into her back before the knot began to finally sink in. The pressure she applied was now relinquished to Josephine’s care who took in the knot at her own convenience, placing as much power as she could in her legs, slowly breaching her opening as slowly as she drew breath under Herah’s fist. A grey eye cracked open for a second, her cheeks flushed and teeth gritted as she relished the delectable pain in both halves of her body. 

Giving her legs a jolt, a broken scream -muffled by the hand on her vocal cords- tore through the Antivan as she finally felt the thick muscle lock in place inside her, her walls writhing around the Alpha’s member, waiting to be filled.

Herah couldn’t leave well enough alone, her eyes glittering like a jungle cat’s as she gave a few pumps with what little movement she had, pressing herself as far up into the Omega as she could before releasing. The finite space in the diplomat was quickly saturated by the continuous streams of seed, stuffing her till the minuscule swell they both noted over many nights returned. No longer able to support her own weight, Herah collapsed against her mate, taking care to not crush her _petite amour._ The steady stream soon turned to little jets; adding to the flood with less energy. Herah had since released her grip, the aftermath of her brutality sure to show soon in warm, red patterns across the Omega’s neck.

Josephine drew her hands up into Herah’s dark hair combing through the strands, occasionally pressing her nails into the Qunari’s scalp. She listened to the Alpha’s breathing as it attempted to even out, her own breaths short, especially when crushed under the giant woman coupled with the liberties taken on her windpipe. 

Even so, Josephine enjoyed the weight above her for as long as she was physically able; like a heavy blanket, securing her.

Though the swelling in her abdomen was small, the Omega pretended, for a moment, that she could feel its shape as her skin burned against Herah’s. Deep within her mind, she held a thought back, one that pestered her as they mated, trying not to acknowledge its depravity and failing miserably at ignoring it. 

For just a moment, she dreamed that the small bottle on the nightstand was full, that she hadn’t taken it, that a little piece of Herah flourished in her, especially in these troubling times where she knew not if her lover would be alive the next day.

By the Maker, it was an enticing dream.

She eagerly imagined testing this temptation despite not knowing Herah’s intent. Though it seemed clear in her actions, the quiet, yearning stares, the touches against her womb, Josephine couldn’t lay surety on body language alone. Though she was skilled at decoding hidden meanings, she couldn’t, no, she wouldn’t risk assuming anything lest it all came crumbling down. 

They had both become silent after their coupling though Herah occasionally lifted her head to speak some ludicrously syrupy words or lay gentle kisses on her paramour. Other than that, they remained sedated in each other’s embrace. Held together by the knot which pulsed between them, they shared that quiet moment with the fire crackling and nowhere else to go.

It was time to bite the proverbial arrow.

And surprisingly enough, it wasn’t Josephine that spoke first.

“You keep tensing up,” Herah started, “What’s wrong, Josie?”

Josephine tried to plot out her questions at first, she was a wordsmith, after all, a master of conversation, a paragon of charisma.

And yet, at that moment, she felt as if her prior training in all things verbal just...fled.

She took a breath before beginning. 

“You need not say anything if my following words are...unsubstantiated…” Josephine said carefully, her hands running up and down the Alpha’s back in an anxious pace, “but it is within my sphere of thought...what I mean to say is that there are indeed...there is….”

Every word, a failure.

Every time the Omega tried to bring up the topic, her words would die before they became voiced, her mind focused but her throat, unwilling as if for the first time she knew fuck all about speaking. 

“Never thought I’d live to see the Inquisition's diplomat trip over herself,” Herah pipes up, her breath warm against the Antivan’s skin, ”Say whatever you need to, Kadan,” she pauses to run her hand up the curve of her mate’s waist, “I’m listening, and remember,” a small kiss is felt against the cartilage of her throat, against a growing bruise, “I love you.”

Herah can hear Josephine’s breathing turn steady despite her racing heartbeat.

“Do you...Are you...interestedinhavingchildren?” the diplomat rushes, all too quietly and all too quickly, her words like a dagger plunging swiftly from the darkness by a clumsy hand. 

There’s a shift in their position, only slightly as Herah makes herself more comfortable between the Antivan’s legs. 

“Are _you_?” the Inquisitor replies, her tone unregistered to any specific emotion. 

It’s just two words, but the weight behind them was heavier than the woman resting atop Josephine, made more crushing by the ambiguity in tone; a chill inside her stomach made itself known.

She doesn’t mean to make Herah wait for an answer, knowing the gravity of the question, but she can’t help the way her mind wanders to a vision of Obsidian or tawny skin, grey or honey-yellow eyes, horns or hornless?

All attributes given to an unnamed child, held carefully in large grey hands at birth, running through some cobblestone street in Antiva, swinging a sword like their sire or charming the courts like their mother or something else entirely.

Was it even possible to sire pups with the stark difference in blood between the two?

Maker’s breath, she hoped, quietly in her heart, that she could carry. 

Above her, Herah is tense; wearing her emotions on her sleeve. Bluntness would have been ideal for the situation but an ideal is just that. A dream. 

Neither found themselves able to bludgeon the topic over the other’s head and so chose to dance this complicated waltz of questioning.

But as all dances end, so did this one, with both partners holding each other tightly, neither making a misstep; both miraculously on the same wavelength. 

“I am,” Josephine finally says, the words like a sip of oxygen to Herah who had been holding her breath.

The great beast snuggles into her mate, relieved beyond words, pressing her body further into her, pressing the knot just a little upwards to elicit a reaction. The mass of muscle throbbed, swelling just a little before another spurt of liquid added to the breeding. 

A sigh disguised as an exhalation of breath stutters from Josephine as she runs her hands through dark hair to score the sensitive flesh where her horns met her skull.

Herah’s hips jolt despite being locked in place by the knot as the nails rake against her head.

“Do you want to start now?” comes the Alpha again as she nips at the diplomat’s neck, gentle with her teeth around the patches of marred skin.

Josephine allows the bites, guiding one of her hands to brush a thumb against the side of Herah’s face, her eyes closed with a pleased hum vibrating in her throat. 

“You do realize the draught is still in effect, _amore_ ,” the Antivan spoke softly, a small gasp following quickly after Herah lays a gentle bite against her pulse. 

There is no response but a laugh from the Alpha Qunari who continues her little ministrations, her energy renewed as if the confession stoked her fires once again. Josephine knew that Herah was joking due to the efficacy of the potion but she could hear and feel the seriousness in the woman’s tone, the yearning given affirmation but not action. 

She would have to have some patience. 

They would have to have some patience.

* * *

It was vital.

The end.

With the Breach ripped back open and Corypheus making his final move, so too did they have to prepare. They gathered at the War Table, each Advisor mired with a different emotion, all focused on Herah who stared at the table. 

Leliana was worried.

Cullen was reticent.

And Josephine?

Josephine was scared.

She looked at the Inquisitor who had both hands braced against the table, her expression flat as if she accepted the fact she was marching off to her possible demise. 

Herah’s head hung low as her gaze fixed on her Anchored hand, her jaw was tight, her brow knotted. There was clear stress on the Alpha’s face, her honey yellow eyes hidden by the shadow cast on her bowed head. 

There were tears welling in Josephine’s eyes, her mind awash with every bad outcome, every possible reality of failure; every version of Herah meeting her death to the Magister stabbed the Ambassador with horror. The fear rang out in her body, coiling icy hot despair in her stomach, making the hollow where Herah’s offspring could have grown all the more prevalent.

Stifling her tears, Josephine blinked them away before they could be noticed.

But they were indeed noted by one, who looked up from their bent position with absurdly kind eyes, offering a small smile to the human she loved, a reassurance blatant in her expression. 

A look that said, no, promised, _I will return to you._

Snapped from their collective reverie, a Rook made its way into the War Room, circling overhead to find its target before resting on Leliana’s offered arm.

A message hung from its leg, one she took with celerity; unfolding the parchment and reading aloud the words, each person in the room knew then and there that the plan had been set to end Corypheus.

The mated pair looked to each other as the news broke, knowing the gravity of the situation, knowing that…

They only had tonight before Herah was sent to her prospective gallows. 

* * *

After a long briefing with her doomsday team, Herah stood on the balcony that allowed her the most privacy. The mountain air allowed her some reprieve from the bubbling, noxious apprehension inside her. The Alpha couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

Tomorrow, she could very well die and with her everyone else.

Amber eyes closed as her chest rang out in a phantom pain.

Josephine would be one of those many casualties and with her, their chance of a life together.

Swallowed in her thoughts, Herah watched the sunset sink over the mountains as she waited for her paramour to finish her many letters to their many allies; Josephine, though anxious to return to her mate, was not one to shirk her duties no matter how meaningless they would be should Herah fall.

A sharp inhalation of her breath shocked Herah from her thoughts as she felt arms weave around her torso, wrapping around her chest. Josephine lay her head against Herah’s back, nonchalant to the freezing weather as a grey hand moved to rest over a brown one. 

Even as Herah blocked the sunlight from her visage, Josephine could see the light around them fade, slowly replacing the solar glow with the sickly green flare of the Breach. The viridian blaze dwarfed the moonlight, encompassing the sky like a reminder that neither of them could shake. 

Josephine squeezed Herah tighter in her arms before speaking, her tone hesitant at first, then sure, solid, vehement. 

“I have taken the draught.”

Herah breathes deeply, understanding what Josephine means by that statement alone, her worry bleeding into her need to show the Antivan just how much she adored her. To love her as much as possible before she leaves indefinitely. 

The Alpha is pulled away by her Omega into their Quarters where the firelight far outshone the caustic green of the Breach.

* * *

There’s an obvious penchant for savagery in Josephine’s sexual proclivities; tastes that if made known to the courts, would destroy the Montilyet name. In the Inquisitor's Quarters, however, the courts needn’t know about her preferences, especially when doom upon all the world hovered over them. 

There was a time for everything however and as much as Josephine requested roughness, tonight she requested romantics.

Motioning for Herah to sit on the bed, Josephine straddled the Qunari, cupping her jaw in both hands, bringing her forward, brushing their lips together.

Herah placed her hands on her mate’s waist, pushing her down gently to sit in her lap. Josephine shakily exhaled as she felt the Alpha’s length awaken, straining against her leather hosen and pressing against the Antivan’s dress pants. 

For a swordswoman, she was dextrous, unbuckling her corset and undoing the front of her dress; an activity she’s done so often, she could do it with her eyes closed. As Josephine peppered kisses down Herah’s jaw, she may as well have had her eyes closed. 

The garments fell away, and, much to Herah’s surprise, so did her own coat and shirt which Josephine had been tugging at while the Alpha was busy. Pulling away from the Alpha, Josephine drew her thumbs across Herah’s broad shoulders, softly raking her nails on the skin as she saw the honey-yellow eyes of her mate darken. Her fingers brushed against the mating mark, now healed fully, showing off a proud scar that she wore in tandem. 

She couldn’t.

Grey eyes closed as she felt tears slip down her cheeks. Herah’s hands were warm against her face as the Alpha spread butterfly kisses on her lover’s face, quieting the stream in her broken Vashoth Qunlat, making promises she would return, promising so much despite the sickening tear in the sky and the God that desired her death. 

“It’s going to be ok, Kadan,” Herah reassured as she felt Josephine try to hold back a wail; the Qunari’s expression equally crestfallen, “I won’t leave you for long.”

* * *

The tear tracks were no longer present after Herah divested them both of their clothes. She gathered the Omega close to her on the bed with one arm as her paramour’s pillow, the other travelling slowly down a sweetly curved body. Herah nuzzled into Josephine’s hair, pressing a kiss to her temple before moving down to her ear, running her tongue along the lines of cartilage before taking the lobe in her teeth. 

The sudden attention made the Antivan give a surprised intake of breath, as Herah’s hand continued down before reaching its destination. The licentious beast drew her index finger in a light swipe over the sensitive nerve, causing Josephine’s body to twitch at the quick stimulation. Herah rolled her body over slightly, pressing herself against her mate as she ran more fingers up and down her Omega. Herah abandoned the earlobe between her teeth to place a line of kisses down Josephine’s neck while continuing her ministrations. A grey finger ran against the diplomat’s entrance, skating along and around the intended area, collecting a steady stream of liquid that continued dripping out. 

A breathless moan sounded off as Herah curled her fingers inside her mate, breaching her opening with a steady hand. Herah worked the sensitive patch inside the Antivan with precision, drawing out a litany of sighs, each growing in volume with every pump of her fingers. Drawing herself upwards, Herah captured Josephine’s lips on her own, relishing the way her breath puffed without control, how her moans filtered into Herah’s mouth as her hand worked faster.

Though enveloped by her own pleasure, feeling the pressure in her abdomen growing, Josephine could feel Herah’s naked length against her thigh throbbing with little dribbles of liquid smearing against her skin.

Without warning, the Ambassador clamped her thighs together as the pressure in her unwound in blissful little circles, her toes curling against the sheets as Herah continued pumping her fingers slowly to guide her through her release. Caught in a haze, Josephine gripped the sheets between her fingers as Herah withdrew her own slowly, bringing them up to suckle the residue.

“Herah…” was all the Ambassador could say in a weak, breathless tone as the Alpha removed her arm from beneath Josephine’s head.

The mattress dipped as she watched Herah remove her fingers from her mouth, circling around her until she was nestled between her legs, laying her body down, mimicking their first night.

Feeling the length against her opening forced a pleased whimper from the Antivan who quickly moved to latch her arms around Herah’s shoulders, pulling her flush against her body.

Their faces were close with the yellow of Herah’s eyes softening immeasurably, her body barely held up by her powerful grey arms. A tanned hand slid between them, running a palm against the ridges of Herah’s muscles before settling at the swollen member dripping against her skin. Herah sucked in a breath before closing her eyes at the touch which massaged her length with witty fingers. 

And unlike their first night, where Herah took control, guiding the Antivan’s every step, Josephine took command with dextrous care, using her other hand to push the Inquisitor against her mouth while she guided the length to her entrance. The head brushed against her, and with gentle swipes, she coated the tip with wetness before pulling Herah forward to sink in. 

Herah groaned into the kiss as control was given back to her, slowly thrusting until the head was fully coated, pushing her way through further. Herah felt the rough wall against her tip and applied pressure to that angle as she continued her slow thrusts. Each push drew a groan from her mate which brought fire to their kiss. Soon, Josephine had to break away to bring her legs over Herah’s back, encouraging the pace with the subtle hooking of her knees. Easing the next few inches in, Herah braced herself as she slid without resistance, her eyelashes fluttering as Josephine pulled her in. 

The thrusts were slow and calculated, with the top of the knot teasing against her opening as the Omega attempted to spread her legs wider to accommodate. Her legs pressed tighter as she buried her face in Herah’s shoulder, brushing her nose against the mating mark but lacking the wherewithal to hold it in her teeth.

And within the second, Herah scooped up her paramour in her arms, forcing her upwards till she was sitting in Herah’s lap with the Alpha’s hand’s easily supporting her weight with strong hands on her rear. Her arms had yet to release from Herah’s shoulder, her breath stuttering as she felt gravity assist the knot in stretching her. Pressing down, Herah rocked back on her heels as she felt Josephine’s calves squeeze against her. 

Removing herself from the grey shoulder, the Omega tilted her head to watch Herah, for once, looking down on her as she laced her hands in her hair, brushing against her horns as she caught Herah in a kiss. 

With a solid push, Herah brought the Antivan down against her lap, grinding against her as the knot sunk in, snapping into place within Josephine as the member pulsed inside of her.

A string of saliva connected them as Josephine pulled away, her eyes watering from a variety of emotions, pleasure, pain, sadness, fear. Embracing Herah, she locked her arms around the Qunari’s head, pressing her face into a pointed grey ear and dark hair. 

The fingers around her rear tightened as the first stream of seed plastered her insides, each jet forcefully spraying with no escape. 

Herah lay them both down as the tie swelled between them, pressing kisses to her paramour with gentle, sweet words and confessions before halting completely. 

She tasted salt in her mouth. 

Looking up, Herah brought a thumb to wipe away the tears from her silently sobbing lover.

“I’ll come back,” Herah states, “I promise I’ll come back.” 

Though their coupling was bathed in tender pleasure, Josephine continued crying, unable to control herself, unable to express herself any more than that. 

Herah continued attempting to comfort her mate on their last night together until the long, long trek towards her destiny but nothing she said or did allayed the pain.

Nothing.

* * *

Josephine was undoubtedly talented; extroverted and socially adept, she was brilliant at all forms of verbal feats which included -though she didn’t like to say it- manipulation. It was natural for all participants of the grand Game to be duplicitous; a trait she couldn’t hide despite being unfathomably and genuinely kind to all she met.

She hated that side of her but it was still a part of her.

A deep breath from the bed made her shoulders jump, her eyes quickly darting to the large woman barely covered by a sheet, nestled in the mattress as if she wasn’t about to meet her death in a few hours.

Herah slept soundly, her face buried in a pillow Josephine substituted for herself. Her attention turned back to her thoughts as the Antivan stood at Herah’s desk, in her hands, a bottle. 

A full bottle.

The fireplace had died down, casting thick outlines on the glass and its contents; a lie personified. Josephine deliberated as her thumb brushed the cork, her mind racked with guilt but her heart blossoming with unearned joy. 

The delight sickened her ever so slightly.

The draught now remained in her palm, a decision weighing heavily on her.

The end of the world was nigh and she knew fully and absolutely that it wasn’t a wise decision at all which is why the cork squeaked under the pressure of her thumb.

All she could think of was Herah.

Holding the bottle in both hands, unsure if she had caught, she brought the tincture to her chest, her eyes closed and in near tears.

She found herself enveloped and if the bottle weren't clasped tightly in her hands, it would have dropped. Instead, those hands were cradled in rough, grey palms.

There was brief absurdity to the situation with Josephine’s thoughts being so loud that she didn’t even hear the Inquisitor approach. Even so, Herah held her mate closely, mirroring the silence between them. 

From deception to cold fear, running a straight blade of apprehension into her stomach. The diplomat couldn’t see Herah’s face from her position, her opal eyes wide, her body trembling ever so slightly even as the Inquisitor’s skin was oh so very warm. 

“I’m not mad,” Herah spoke softly, her body bent enough to rest her head on top Josephine’s head, “but we need to consider everything, Kadan,” her nose brushed against frizzy hair, “I want to be there when it happens and if everything blows up...I…” there’s a pause as Herah thinks of her next words carefully, “I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

As the Alpha spoke, the bottle was gripped tighter by both ladies with tears dotting the cork; beading up and rolling off the container. Josephine’s lips trembled as she continued sobbing silently, her hand moving from within Herah’s, her thumb flicking the cork off with on motion as she downed the contents quickly much akin to their first night, in one brief swallow. 

She felt as empty as the bottle but Herah leaned forward to shower her in nuzzles and kisses, filling her with love. Josephine had expected Herah to be angry at proving her selfishness, her duplicity, her behaviour in the Game that so often dogged her. 

She knew she wasn’t perfect, that she was flawed and stubbornly passionate at times, but Herah made her feel perfect; feel loved despite her transgressions. 

They remained standing in the silence save for the dying embers in the fireplace; the din of the near-silence forcing both into contemplation yet forcing both together further. It wasn’t until time had passed, slowly like the breeze against the window, that Herah called her back to bed, the bottle abandoned on the desk as the mates laced into each other, unsure of the future yet so clairvoyantly blessed of their shared plan. 

“Please, do not wake me to see you depart,” Josephine whispered against Herah’s chest, “Lest I implore with a frenzy that you remain.”

And as was requested, Josephine didn’t awaken till sunlight streamed in from the closed balconies, the same warmth she recalled from a day she roused pinned under her paramour. 

Gripping the sheet in her fingers, Josephine blinked slowly as the cold chill of the long empty bed set in. She stared at the room, far too extensive for just one person as she glanced at the empty bottle on the desk. Moving on the mattress, the Omega drew her knees up as she rested her arms across her legs, preparing herself to face the day. 

A flash of cobalt caught her eye as she moved, her attention piqued as she traced the origin. 

On the back of her hand, in near-unintelligible letters were words followed by a sloppy smear of ink. 

Josephine drew the sheets up to catch her brimming tears, her other hand covering her mouth as the sunlight highlighted the royal blue familiar scrawling, lending a glow of comfort to her skin and aching heart.

_I love you_

A small heart was drawn, most likely with a fingertip instead of a quill.

The tears stopped in the brief fluttering of eyelashes as Josephine pulled the sheets off her, drying her tears and brushing her hair off her shoulders. 

Though she wasn’t particularly eager nor ready to face the day, she drew herself up instead of down, her mind wandering to her many delegations no matter their pointless existence should Thedas run to ruin. 

A small list popped into her head as she brushed the dry ink on the back of her hand with light touches. Should everything truly be fine, a party would be in order, no it **had** to be in order. Maybe she could speak to her contacts; seeing about speciality items for a grand celebration would be imperative.

She thought of Herah, her honey-yellow eyes in quiet kindness, her voice ringing in unhindered laughter after some night with Bull; the name of a strong Par Vollen beverage on the tip of her tongue with the name just out of reach.

She would prepare for Herah’s return. There was a small smile on Josephine’s face as she stretched her arms wide to banish the sleep from her form; many tasks laying heavy on her mind, distracting her from every horrid thought which threatened to break her.

She would have patience for Herah to return as promised so they could be patient together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmmmmmmmmm. Thanks for reading that uh...mmmmmmmm
> 
> I'll be back soon, as usual. Ahem. 
> 
> Yep. My stomach hurts.

**Author's Note:**

> Life's been kicking my bad bits (plus my mental health is like asking me why I didn't feed it today as it tries to crawl its way out my basement; chained to the floor) so it'll take a lil bit but I'll be back soon lol.


End file.
